That isn't to say it's awful; or that I'm a halfwit and don't know my own mind. At 2.5 years in, I am about 80%-90% back. Hell, I can even type; probably at the rate of a mere mortal... It's that last bloody 10-20% that isn't coming as easily as I'd like!
So I hunt for the next idea (or fad). Anything to be myself! Bring the old me back! I'm even doing oxygen therapy in a hyperbaric chamber at the moment because some neurosurgeon in the states, cured a little girl's brain damage. Of course she was under five and he saw her straight after she drowned... Not fifty something and two and a half years down the track.
And when I think of it, I wonder... Do I seriously want the old me back..? That up and down personality that was on fire one minute; depressed five seconds later... That person that disliked anything bigger than a snail or smaller than an elephant; because they would leave a mess in my beautiful, streamlined, so clean you could eat off the floor, house? That person that could never save because there was always something I wanted; that I couldn't live without!
I've been given the rare opportunity to reinvent myself.
Better than that, because I get to reinvent myself with a house; a dog named Sharpie and in my home town.
Life is good.